Title: And All These Lonely Nights
Author: Amalin
Notes: Warning for implied incest. PG-13.



Taylor's been following him. Not like that, not exactly, but Zac sees him outside the window of Zac's favorite deli on Monday, and he has to leave the cashier with a ten dollar tip so he can catch the door from the last customer and dash outside, sneakers on the pavement and a startled "Tay?" over the honk of traffic. Taylor turns, hands in his pockets and this gleeful surprise lighting up his eyes, as if he hadn't just spent three hours arguing over Aretha Franklin with Zac the night before (which ultimately ended in a mock-fight on the floor and a spilt carton of ice cream). They go back into the deli, talk about music, Jessica, Taylor's birthday. It's like coincidence, except that it happens on Thursday outside the record store near TriBeCa and on Sunday, when he shows up nineteen minutes after Isaac leaves. Zac counts.

It's not like Zac doesn't see him every day; sometimes they'll go for two or three and it's not quite right, him and Ike talking music without Taylor leaning forward and jumping in over both of them. Then it'll be midnight and Tay'll call, kind of breathless like he's been out, and he'll say, "Hey, you busy?" and he'll be there in two minutes, a block or two away, sometimes with Ike's favorite flourless chocolate cake or a stack of DVDs but mostly just him, hands stuck in his jean pockets, grinning when he steps inside.

Only he calls Zac's cell, every now and then, voice quiet like he's trying not to wake anybody else. One night they talk for three hours and it's like the bus tours they used to do, four a.m. and laughing over nothing, Zac scrolling through his e-mail idly while Taylor talks at him. He lies awake after that, ear still warm from the phone, hands behind his head. Wonders if Isaac has long conversations like that with Tay. Used to, maybe. Now?

Tay and Ike go out sometimes, talk guitar chords over fancy dinners, while Zac backs out to plays video games instead. But somehow he doesn't think it's the same, thinks protectively of the way Taylor bumps into him at the grocery store, hums "Lucy" when he's trying to teach Zac how to cook better, says "See you" like it's a promise, like out of the next day Tay will materialize, somehow, and Zac should expect that. They do family outings and dinner parties and Zac makes small talk about art with Natalie, but afterwards they do the dishes alone and Tay flicks water at him, laughs, and there's something else there, his eyes dark and open.

"See you," he says, later, at the door, and Zac has to look away.






It's before an interview and Zac's fussing with his hair when Tay comes over and jostles him. "Beauty queen," he says to the mirror, spins Zac by the shoulder to fix his collar.

Zac rolls his eyes at him. "Thanks, Mom." He kisses Tay on the cheek, sloppily, mockingly, the way he does their mother.

It's unexpectedly awkward for a second, until Tay chuckles and leans forward in the mirror, attention turned elsewhere. "All right, come on, Zachary." He slings an arm around Zac's neck, tugs him away, and they slip into the hallway, where Ike's waiting. The moment slips out with them.

Later, and Zac's off-guard when the interviewer asks, "And how are you feeling about 3 Car Garage?" He starts, the question addressed to him, but Taylor covers for him, bumping his knee teasingly under the table, like saying, Hey, you, pay attention.

He doesn't, though. He laughs at Isaac's comment after they're told "Underneath" is all about cars and girls, nods when Taylor's speaking, but he's thinking of that flare of startled blue in Taylor's eyes before he laughed, the line of his mouth when he turned to the mirror. Taylor's leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, gesturing while he talks about passion and "Rock and Roll Razorblade," and his eyes are full of light and he's beaming, that Taylor-grin slipping out. Zac thinks, Taylor, watching Tay's hands move, and almost misses his question, something about his musical influences these days.

"Okay," Ike says, after, punching him on the shoulder, "who is it?"

"What?"

"The girl? You got all spacey over in there?"

Zac elbows him. "Oh, shut up," he says, and doesn't answer.






It's Taylor's third fight with Natalie since Christmas; Zac stumbles out from his room to find Tay crashed on the couch, tie barely loosened and his arm slipping over the side, fingers curled loosely, vulnerable. "Hey," he says, hushed and sleepy, when Zac trips on his way back from the kitchen and manages to crash over a chair.

"Sorry," Zac says, spoon catapulted towards Taylor, carton of ice cream squashed in his hand. He pokes it back into shape and jostles Taylor over on the couch. "Er, hungry?"

"No," says Taylor, who takes the spoon from Zac a contemplative minute later. "Is this all you eat?"

Zac takes the ice cream back from him, puts up his feet on the edge of the table. "I eat spinach," he offers defensively, after a minute. Taylor's elbow is warm on his forearm, and he can picture Taylor's slow smile before he glances over, both of them sleepy and tangled up in shadows. Down the hall, Zac thinks he hears Isaac snoring.

"A regular vegetarian." Taylor's voice is drowsy, and there's something secret and compelling about the curve of his mouth, the way it curls up in the corner. He props his feet against Zac's thigh and leans back, all blue light and shadow this time of night. Zac has the sudden, unexpectedly fierce urge to kiss him.

He protests instead, "Ice cream has calcium." Weakly, as if he hadn't just had the inexplicable and terrifying thought of kissing his brother, and his voice is a little too quick, too startling. It takes him a breathless moment before he can glance back to Taylor, afraid of what truths he's already betrayed.

Taylor's already asleep, tie rumpled, shadows drawn across his face. Zac watches him, ice cream melting in the perspiring cardboard carton, spoon sticky and forgotten on the table, until the sun comes up and he has to evacuate to his room before Isaac emerges to make the morning coffee.






Zac watches Taylor more now. He watches his mouth when they're practicing and the motion of his fingers and the way he moves his hands when he's talking, distracted, the way he sometimes pushes his hair away from his face without thought. Once Taylor catches him and gives him a quick grin, some secret spark between them, and Zac's mouth goes dry.

He doesn't think this is healthy. He tells the mirror one morning while brushing his teeth, I've wanted my brother for two weeks tomorrow. Brushes. Spits. Thinks, But I've loved him for--

Isaac knocks on the door, then, yells that he'd better not have used all the hot water for how long he's been navel gazing. Zac leaves the mirror fogged just for that.

It's the first day of March, the sky taut and full of blue, trees still bare and weather just this side of savage. He shrugs his jacket on as he jogs down the steps, hums the first bar of the chorus from "If Only" without thinking, watches the light change from red to green. It's warm for March, with just a touch of a Tulsa breeze, some sad warm day of firsts. Zac sticks his hands in his pockets and thinks about new songs.

"Hey," Taylor murmurs later, low in his ear, when he's in line at the grocery. Zac turns fast, lips half-touching Taylor's cheek before Tay moves back, something still and familiar in his eyes. Like March skies, hiding the pulse of spring. "I thought you might be here," he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world, like this is a song he knows by heart. There's some soft note in his voice, a little bit of love poetry in the way his mouth shifts around the words.

"See you," Zac says, afterwards, stepping into the cool March sunlight. He has his hands in his pockets, and Taylor's before him, silhouetted by the day, up against the sky.

He knows he will.